Memories of Last Night
by angelfire92
Summary: Kenny can't stop stop thinking about what happened last night between himself and a certain ebony haired male. Crenny. Kenny's POV. Rated T for suggestive themes. just some random drabble. may be continued.


Hey. sorry about not updating my other fic "Party Games". im on a writing block for Bleach right now. i just recently got back into the South Park fandom, so that's where all my focus is at the moment. im promise that i AM working on the follow up, but that story is going on hold for now, until i get my inspiration back. sorry D:

anyways, this Story is Craig/Kenny. It's all from Kenny's point of view. i was just kinda bored, and had some random thoughts in my head so i wrote them down and it turned into this. i dunno. XD

anyways, im not sure if there will ever be a sequel to this or not, but so far, it just kinda stops there. XD

Craig Tucker and Kenny McKormick belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker.

Enjoy.

* * *

Normally, it takes five minutes to get to the bus stop,

but today, it took hours.

I look down at my feet,

wondering why they're moving so slowly.

My thoughts flicker back to last night,

to the warm body,

the bare skin pressed against my naked chest.

He had kissed me,

and I kissed him back,

whispering silent encouragements endlessly against his lips,

while our bodies molded together.

_Focus..._

I wait for the bus, leaning against the mail box,

the bitter wind tearing into my flesh through my jeans,

icy claws digging into my bones.

I'm used to it, it's the same every morning.

_But today is different..._

A man walks up, standing next to me,

obviously waiting for the bus as well.

He looks me up and down, then smiles.

I turn away, muttering, "Damn perverts".

_How ironic..._

The bus finally come,s and I'm saved from frostbite,

as I board the sparsely heated vehicle and sit down.

I watch the passengers blankly, thinking to myself,

when last night reappears in my head, and I blink,

fighting back the images in my mind.

_Not now...._

People get on and off the bus continually

while I sit there, waiting patiently for my stop.

I get up and offer my seat to an elderly woman,

who takes it gladly, smiling at me and saying something about manners.

I don't really hear her though, I'm not paying attention.

Younger kids get off at the middle school stop,

only a few before my own.

I move to the doors, waiting for them to open,

as the bus pulls up in front of my school.

The wind tugs at my blond hair as I exit

making my way to the double doors of the school

pulling them open, enjoying the warmth that embraces me

_A warm embrace..._

mental pictures flash by,

playing a movie for only my eyes to see.

I blink as I feel the warm arms from last night

wrap themselves around my waist, pulling me closer

the hot breath on my neck feels so real right now...

_Stop that..._

I walk to my locker, grabbing my textbooks

before heading to my first class.

I feel so tired

my eyes droop as I sit at my desk

and im suddenly jolted back to reality

as the teacher yells at me to wake up

I struggle to stay conscious

the boring lecture becoming the sweetest of lullabies.

The teacher calls my name angrily

and points to the door.

Wearily, I shift myself out of my chair,

moving across the room

and going out into the hall, as the door is shut behind me.

I know the teacher will soon forget of my existence,

not bothering to check on me until the end of class.

I walk down the empty hallways,

roaming deserted corridors.

I listen to the mutterings of teachers,

the scratchings of pencils on paper

and the shifting of desks, as I pass by the classes.

I look to the side, into a random room, as I walk by,

freezing mid-step, as my blue eyes

lock with those of an intense grey.

I've been caught and can't move.

A deer in the headlights.

It all comes rushing back

strong hands, moving, touching, feeling

my legs wrapped around a slim but muscled waist

lips crashing together hungrily

fingers tangling into unruly dark locks

my breathing stops.

_Move dammit..._

The teacher says something loudly

and the dark eyes turn away quickly

refocusing on the lesson.

I feel myself shiver, and my legs become heavy

but I drag myself along anyways

out of the line of sight.

I run, not breathing until I reach the end of the hall

I look out the window I'm now in front of,

my reflection looking back at me.

I stare at my mirror image

the purplish circles under my eyes, clearly visible.

I pull the collar of my jacket down, revealing my neck

eyeing the hand shaped bruises

that wrap perfectly around my throat.

Proof of my pain

I look at the clock on the wall

ten minutes until the end of class

I head back and assume a position

leaning against the wall, hands in my pockets

the typical teenage poses of defiance.

The teacher opens the door as the bell rings

not even bothering to punish me

just motioning for me to grab my stuff and go.

I grab my bag and leave.

Making my way to my next class

English.

_I can fall asleep in English..._

I walk into my classroom

and almost turn around to leave again.

A picture is pinned to the board

portraying a busty female

in one of the skimpiest bathing suits I've ever seen.

And that's saying something

Below the poster, the word "Beauty?" is written

I sit in my desk at the back of the class

and held my head in my hands

much more awake than before.

_Fuck..._

The teacher strolls into the classroom

binder in hand.

He gestures to the board, and questions

in his loud booming voice.

"Is this considered beautiful?"

a few students raise their hands,

giving reasons for why and why not.

The teacher listens to their explanations

nodding in agreement, saying "Good" periodically.

He sticks another poster up on the board,

this one of a starving child in the slums of Africa.

"what about this?" he asks. "Is this beautiful?"

More hands, more reasons.

I groan inwardly, knowing whats coming.

The teacher nods and says

"The reason im asking you this

is because out next unit is 'Truth and Beauty'"

He walks to the front of the class

"Why is something beautiful? Is it real?

Or is beauty just a figment of our imaginations?

What do _you_ consider beautiful?"

I pause.

_What do I consider beautiful...?_

I think about soft black hair

messed up by my fingers

I think of a charming smile

with a hint of glinting metal braces

running over slightly crooked teeth.

I think of shoulders,

round and strong.

And a toned chest

a faint six pack lingering beneath it.

I think of slim hips

held up by long legs

and powerful arms

ended with firm, yet gentle hands.

A neck, with smooth pale skin

and a chiseled jaw,

high cheekbones and full lips.

Thick eyelashes that flicker over smoldering eyes.

Those eyes.

Dark and mysterious,

with the ability to see right through you.

Those eyes linger in my thoughts.

_Yes... I know what I think is beautiful._


End file.
